being stuck in between
by GingerGleek
Summary: Kurt-centric, w/ Finn, Blaine, Rachel, Wes, David. Set after AVGC. / Kurt tries to be supportive of both Finn and Rachel, but eventually - "I am sick and tired of having to listen to you complain about your ex-girlfriend! What you did was just as wrong!"


_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee in any way, shape or form. I am merely borrowing the characters and story lines in existence and expanding upon them as I please._

**_Rated:_**_ T, for language, because I'm super cautious._

_A/N: There's always a sense of accomplishment when you go back to a story that you'd abandoned and finish it, am I right? This fic was started months ago, and as a result is set sometime after _A Very Glee Christmas_ but without any mention of the events of any episode after that__. Set at Dalton, under the original assumption that it was a boarding school. It does veer away from the canon depiction of Finn and Rachel's problems and how they progressed._

_Summary: Kurt's only trying to be there for both Finn and Rachel, as a brother and friend respectively, in light of their break-up, but he can only handle so much._

_I hope you enjoy!_

_.._

Kurt would like to go on the record as saying that he did not ask for any of this.

All he was trying to do was be there for his step-brother and acquaintance-approaching-on-friend.

The fact that the two of them are on opposite ends of the same argument/issue/spat/fight-of-epic-proportions is a big problem for him, though.

Over the Christmas break, it was pretty much just Finn he had to worry about. You know, seeing as they live together and all. Rachel had been taking things surprisingly well, as far as he knew; and if she wasn't, she was at least keeping to herself. So he only had to deal with one person's rants about how he _hadn't done anything wrong_, blah-blah-blah, they _weren't even dating at the time, so what was her problem_, and _I miss her so much, but she really hurt me_. He was sick of it, sure, but all he had to do was nod and pretend he was on Finn's side, one hundred percent. That's what brothers do, right? And Rachel had made a mistake in making out with Puck, no doubt. (He thinks Finn needs a reality check, though, because why shouldn't Rachel be upset that her boyfriend slept with another girl and lied about it?)

But then he's back at Dalton, and suddenly Rachel starts speaking out, and it turns out that she really _isn't_ taking the break well – at _all_. Especially now that it seems as though every time she _walks down the hall, Finn's __**right there**__, making out with Santana against a row of lockers like he needs to suck the air out of her in order to survive_, or something. And once he's forced to listen to it several times a day – curse him and his unlimited calling – he starts to really understand her side of the story as well. And he can honestly say that it's the side he can relate to the most.

It's not as though he can say that to Finn, though, now can he? Between fielding calls between the both of them – sometimes one right after the other – it gets harder to remember whose side he's supposed to be on and who he's supposed to be bashing at any given time of the day. He almost slips up once and starts arguing Rachel's case to Finn, but luckily he catches himself … (and luckily, Finn isn't all that bright).

It's wearing him out.

Studies are taken a lot more seriously at Dalton than they are at McKinley – and _all_ of their teachers actually have certified degrees in what they teach – and the courses load is undeniably more rigorous. Not to mention that he enrolled late and thus has a lot to catch up on. His sleep schedule is getting seriously out of whack, and he's pretty sure that if this goes on for much longer he's going to start getting _bags_ under his eyes. He's very versatile, and there are many looks that he can rock, but that is definitely not one of them.

This needs to end, and quickly.

He just isn't sure how to tell either of them that he's sick and tired of being the listening ear for their relationship troubles.

..

He's in Blaine's dorm room, on his bed, writing a rather massive English paper while the aforementioned boy works on an important French assignment.

(Listening to Blaine reciting – and he uses the term 'speaking' lightly – what he's written is beginning to border on physically painful for him, because he hadn't realized just how terribly one could butcher the pronunciation of the French language. But that's nothing compared to the video game theme music coming out of the speakers on David's side of the room, where he and Wes are very pointedly ignoring their studies – how they keep their GPAs up Kurt will never understand – for the past two hours.)

He's about ready to throw his laptop out of a window and come up with some excuse to tell Mr. Mathers as to why he doesn't have his essay ready to hand-in during class tomorrow, when his cell phone begins to chant out _Don't Stop Believing_ (the ringtone that Finn had taken the liberty to assign himself on Kurt's phone).

"Hey," he answers tiredly, trying to literally stare a hole through the word document open before him, where he'd been attempting to explain his thesis about Shakespeare's _Hamlet_, "what's up?" It's just a formality, as he already knows 'what's up'; it's the same thing that's _been_ up ever since mid-December.

He brings hand to his temple, ignoring Blaine's curious look and rolling his eyes pointedly whilst sighing as Finn begins to rant about – you guessed it: Rachel.

But he's had enough this time. He's tired, he has a headache, and he's been letting this go on for far too long.

"Damn it, Finn, stop!" His voice is loud, and travels well across the room where Wes and David both look up from their game and Blaine abandons all attempts at reading French. "I am sick and tired of having to listen to you moan and complain your ex-girlfriend! Because, you know what … she's my friend now, too, and what you did was just as wrong as anything she did, and you did it first! Maybe if you'd been man enough to tell her the truth, she wouldn't have felt so worthless and alone that she ran straight into Puck's waiting arms!

"But no, instead you yelled at her and called her insecure – which, hell yeah she was! You slept with Santana, the hottest girl at McKinley, who just happens to make Rachel's life a _living hell_ on a daily basis.

"And you know what? Stop making out with Santana every time you turn around! For a guy who claims that sex with her meant nothing, you sure seem to be aiming for round two! Did you know that every time you have sex with someone, you're having sex with everyone they've ever had sex with? Do you know how many people Santana's had sex with, Finn? Over half of McKinley! I sure as hell hope that you thought to use protection, but either way you should go get tested, because for all you know, you could have an STD or an STI!

"On that note, do you realize how dangerous lying to Rachel about your virginity was? What if the two of you had had sex then, Finn, and you did have a sexually transmitted condition? You would have put Rachel at serious risk, too!

"But back to my main problem: Do you know what Rachel does every time she sees you and Santana getting it on in the hallways or the choir room? Do you? She calls _me_! And then I'm the one who has to deal with her, and listen to hours of sobbing and yelling and complaining. I don't care how you do it, but you had better fix this thing with Rachel within the next twenty-four hours, Finn Hudson! That's when I'm turning my phone back on. I don't care if you get back together, or if you agree to ignore each other for the rest of your lives, but this can't go on! My sanity can't take it!

"And I swear to Gaga … if – when I turn my phone back on tomorrow night – either of you call me to complain about the other … I am going to hijack someone's car, drive to Lima, and strangle you. The twenty-five years to life in prison will be well worth it to never have to listen to another one of your relationship problems ever again!

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a migraine coming on, and I still have over a thousand words to write for an essay that is due in just under nine hours. Good_bye_, Finn."

There's no dramatically satisfying _click_ as he slams his phone shut, but he does jab at the _End Call_ button on his iPhone screen particularly viciously. He shakes his head once, rubbing his temples in another vain attempt to vanish the dull-but-rising pounding in his head without popping a Tylenol or twenty.

..

He doesn't notice the almost comical look that passes between Wes and David, caught somewhere between _oh shit_, and _what the hell_. If he did, he'd probably be caught himself: somewhere between a grimace and a smirk, because none of them have seen this side of him before.

The side that, while appearing strong and calm up to a certain point, does eventually snap under stress and pressure in a fashion that is usually as horrifying as it is hysterical.

He keeps his head down and focused on his laptop screen while holding down the small button on the top of his iPhone until a red bar appears on the screen. He slides it across and lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when the screen finally goes dead. He winces slightly at the sound it makes, because it aggravates the unbearable pulsing in his head and sends a not-so-dull-any-longer throb of pain from one frontal lobe to the other, but sighs in relief when he realizes that at least until he turns it back on, there will be no more calls from Rachel or Finn.

He _does_ notice, eventually, the way Blaine's looking at him: with a half-shocked, half-concerned expression. (Kurt should be either embarrassed by the former or pleased by the latter, he knows. But the first thing to truly register is that Blaine has stopped reciting – and thus, stopped butchering – his French oral presentation. _Then_ the embarrassment kicks in.)

He opens his mouth, probably to apologize, though he hasn't really thought up how he's going to explain this, but Blaine interrupts him before he can start.

"Are you okay?" he asks, brow furrowing as he takes in the tension around Kurt's eyes (from the migraine) and no doubt recalls his rather theatric rant to Finn over the phone.

"Better than I was before," Kurt responds, going for a tight-lipped smile that he hopes doesn't look too much like a grimace, "knowing that I don't have to deal with either of them for a day."

Blaine nods slowly, brow still furrowed, looking back down at the work in his lap for a moment before abandoning it on his desk and walking over to his bedside table and pulling out a small yellow bottle of Aspirin and holding it out to Kurt.

He shakes his head, wincing at the jostling motion, because if he takes them his head will go all fuzzy and he'll fall asleep within the hour. And as appealing as that sounds right now, his essay is due in what is now much closer to eight hours.

Blaine, however, holds the bottle out insistently, reaching over and closing the lid of Kurt's laptop.

"You're in pain," he says, falling easily into his rational voice, if at a much lower decibel than one usually talks in. "Forget about the essay, pop two pills, take a sick day tomorrow, and get back to work on the essay in the afternoon once you've had a good twelve hours of sleep and feel better. Okay?"

Part of him thinks he should protest further, but a larger part is all too happy to shoot Blaine an exhausted but grateful smile and extend his hand for the Aspirin.

He sets his laptop aside, dry-swallowing two pills and leaning his head back against the cold wall behind him. Five minutes later, the video game music that had resumed shortly after he turned his phone off (if at a much lower volume – almost non-existent, really, but he has excellent hearing) still works its way past the haze in his mind, but causes no pain.

..

He doesn't turn his phone on the next day, still wary, but neither Finn nor Rachel does call.

_.._

_Please leave a review and let me know what you thought!_


End file.
